


In the Aftermath

by llrstyb



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3546392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llrstyb/pseuds/llrstyb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy tries to comfort Clarke after Finn's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Aftermath

Bellamy paces outside for the better part of the night, hands clenching and unclenching in a nervous tick. Worry and guilt war inside him as the images flash in his mind, and no matter how hard he tries to suppress them, they don't leave. The images sear themselves into his brain. They are made to haunt his nightmares.

 

_Clarke, walking back to camp with blood on her shaking hands._

 

 _Clarke, brokenly chanting that she had to do it. That there was no other way. She_ had _to kill Finn before they could torture and kill him._

 

_Clarke, breaking down in sobs when the blood wouldn't wash off her hands._

 

_Clarke's pained and panicky eyes._

 

Bellamy closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He needs to stop thinking. Every memory brings with it a new crack in his soul. 

 

The images also bring a terrifying feeling, a feeling of absolute remorse. He should have done something, should have realized what Finn was planning and stopped him before he walked into that cursed lion's den. He had been with him when Finn started acting unusual. He saw first hand how emotionally unstable he was becoming. Bellamy should have predicted his move. He should have known that he was emotionally volatile and capable of doing something irrational. He should've known that Finn would sacrifice himself to the Grounders as some warped sense of receiving redemption. Bellamy should have thought and done so much more. He hangs his head in defeat and shame. 

 

Sighing, he looks around and spots Clarke. In a small, isolated corner, between the camp's fence and a wall of Ark debris, she sits in a fetal position. Bellamy's heart squeezes in his chest when he thinks that no matter now much guilt he feels, Clarke's guilt must be weighing on her a million times worse.

 

He wants to talk to Clarke; no he needs to talk to her, but how can he? He needs to comfort her, to look into her eyes and make sure that she did not break beyond repair. He needs to look into her eyes and reassure her with everything he has. But he also knows that what she needs is to be alone. She hates showing weakness in front of others. So, at this moment, what he needs is not important. 

 

He decides that he will at least try to talk to her and if she tells him to leave her alone, then, and no matter how difficult it will be, he will. 

 

He approaches her, and Clarke looks up at him when she hears his footsteps. He looks at her and sees that her face is not red or puffy, there are no tear streams on her cheeks. No signs of the mourning she must be experiencing. It is only her eyes that betray her pain, and when he stares into them he almost stumbles back. Suffering. Fear. Anger. It's as if she has taken all the misery in the world and locked them her deep, blue eyes. 

 

Somehow, that makes it worse. He had prepared himself for her crying, for her sobbing. But hadn't prepared himself for this. 

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't move. He doesn't breath. 

 

"Bellamy I really just want to be alone right now." Her voice is raspy and quiet.

 

He expected those words, knew she would tell him to go. Knew her first reaction would be to push everyone, including Bellamy, away and deal with it on her own. He expected this because that's how he always deals with his own pain. 

 

"Alright, I'll go." It takes a moment before he can reply. In the cool night air, their voices are barely above a whisper. 

 

But he can't just go. He needs to say something to ease her pain.

 

"Clarke, I just wanted to say that it wasn't your fault. You did what you had to do." 

 

Shaking her head, Clarke hugs her knees tighter and whispers in a hoarse voice, "Bellamy, please, just go." She looks so vulnerable and sad. It's jarring for him to see her this way. So different from how she usually is. Strong. Vibrant. Magnetic. In Command.

 

Walking away, he hesitates at the last moment. "I'm sorry." He says, barely above a whisper. The thick and heavy silence sits in the air for a beat, and as he is about to walk away, he hears a bitter, mangled laugh escape Clarke's lips. When he turns around her eyes are unreadable and cold. Cold and inflicted with pain. It sends a chill down his arms. 

 

"You're sorry?" Her words cut like steel. Not an ounce of warmth in them. "And what are you sorry for exactly? I'm the one that killed Finn. I'm the one that couldn't even protect him. I'm the terrible leader that couldn't even protect her people. Everyone keeps looking at me with pity in their eyes and saying sorry. Well guess what? Finn's the one they should be apologizing to, not me!" 

 

Nausea rises in Bellamy at her words.  _She thinks she's a terrible leader. She thinks she killed Finn._

 

He freezes. Doesn't know how to react or what to say. He's shocked by the anger and loathing in her voice. He expected her to be sad, to be grieving. He didn't expect her to be angry. _Good_. He thinks. Anger will help you fight through this. 

 

He whirls around and strides towards her in three quick steps. He's fervent in his words when he says, "Clarke, what you did today brings us that much closer to freeing and saving our people in Mount Weather." 

 

"I couldn't save the person that I loved. How am I supposed to save everyone else?" Gone is the harsh tone in her voice, replaced with something even sadder; defeat.

 

He takes a deep breath, crouches down and lowers himself to her eye level. She looks up into his eyes.

 

"You're the best leader anyone could ever hope for and we are all lucky to have you." He hesitates for a moment, reaching out to wipe the tears escaping her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. "What you did…What you had to do, that takes courage Clarke. You gave him mercy, at the risk of your own torment. You are so incredibly strong. So brilliantly brave." He wants to hug her, comfort her in some way but doesn't know how. 

 

She says nothing. 

 

"Clarke…" _I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from this pain._  

 

As he turns to walk away and leave her alone as she'd asked, Clarke grabs onto his wrist. He's surprised but doesn't say anything; neither does she. Bellamy looks into her eyes and sees sorrow in them. Sorrow and desperation. She doesn't need to say it, but he already knows what that look means. It's the look of a person desperate to not be left alone. 

 

Without saying anything, he moves and slides down the wall so that he's sitting next to her.

 

Gently, he takes her hand that had grabbed his wrist just moments ago, places it in his own, and intertwines their fingers together. The touch feels intimate. And Bellamy is alarmed at the first thought that passes through his head. _I don't ever want to let go_. They both look at their entwined hands and for a single moment it's just them. Them in their little corner of the world engulfed in their misery. 

 

They sit, and they grieve for their younger selves, not yet hardened by the battle scars of war and survival. They grieve as leaders for their people; for the one's who survived just to have to fight another day. They grieve for those gone before they even had a chance to live. They grieve as people for their friends, their families, and as Clarke buries her head in Bellamy's shoulder, she grieves for Finn. 

 

They sit in silence for what feels like an eternity. Perhaps it was only minutes.

 

She breaks the silence first. She looks up at the stars, their hands still locked together, and says, "We're in a war zone." Taking a shaky breath, she turns and sets her eyes on Bellamy.  

 

"We breathe danger. I know that. And I know this is a lot to ask for, maybe impossible, but please Bellamy, keep yourself safe. I…I can't lose you too." Her voice is stronger than the broken whisper that it was when he first approached her.

 

He feels the breath get knocked out of him. And at that moment, he promises himself that he will never willingly leave her. Nothing will keep him from her, because with her is where he is supposed to be.

 

He wants to reply, to reassure her, but his words feel stuck, stuck along with the emotion he feels building up in his throat.

 

It's because of this that he knows he's a terrible human being. Despite all the tragedy and pain they just experienced, he can't help but feel a thread of selfish joy at her words. _I can't lose you too_.

Before he can gather his thoughts enough to say something, she continues.

 

"Do you know what his last words were to me?" Hearing the pain in her voice, a hurricane wave of emotion hits his chest that he can't subdue.

 

"As I stabbed him in the gut, he whispered with his last breath 'Thanks, Princess.'" Clarke's voice wavers on the last two words.

 

He squeezes her hand in reassurance. 

 

Bellamy takes a deep breath. He can't believe he's about to share this with her. Something he has never told anyone before. Not even Octavia.

 

"When I was on the Ark after my sister had been found out, and my mother floated because of my foolishness, I had a moment of absolute panic. I felt my entire world collapse and burn." He hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath. 

 

"At that moment, I wanted to commit suicide. Wanted to stop the guilt and pain that I felt. But I didn't. I didn't because I thought about Octavia. _My sister. My responsibility_. Those words kept repeating in my mind like a chant."

 

He looks up. She's looking at him. He is bearing his soul, and hoping she understands.

 

"I didn't, couldn't, allow myself to wallow in guilt because I had someone who needed my care. Someone who relied on me. You know, that was my most shameful moment. I had thoughts of abandoning my sister and leaving her to fend for herself. I was at my lowest. I lost everything. But then I got back up. I kept fighting every day. I still do." His voice has gone gruff, and he clears his throat to stop the emotion he can feel building up. 

 

He squeezes her hand again. "That's what leaders do, Clarke. We fight through our pain. And when the pain feels unbearable, that's how we know it's just the beginning of our battle."

 

"But what if I can't? What if I can't fight through my pain?" She's looking down, now. Uncertainty and fear cloud her face and her voice.

"I don't believe that." 

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because you are the strongest person I know." He says it in a way that leaves no room for argument. With no hesitation in his voice. As if it's just one of the simple truths in the universe. He says it in the way you might say, 'The sun rises every morning and sets every evening.' 

 

"How can you have so much faith in me?" She asks, in disbelief of his words.

 

Bellamy hesitates for a moment. How can he explain just how much she means to him? "You saved my life, Clarke. You saved all of us. When we first landed here, we were all reckless and stupid. It was only with your strength and stubbornness that I was able to realize my mistakes and lead our people the way I did. I grew to respect your resilience, your quiet determination in the face of danger. Without you we would all have died. And now, it is only with your help that we will be able to free our friends."

 

He reaches over and gently with his thumb, brushes away the silent tears that started to fall on her cheeks. 

 

"So I keep fighting then," Clarke says, taking a deep shuddering breath. It isn't a question; it's a statement. But he still answers.

 

" _We_ keep fighting. You're not alone in this. I will always have your back. And I will always be there to share the guilt and the pain with you."

 

He looks down at their hands and realizes that he would rather his hand burn to ashes than let go of her grasp. 

 


End file.
